Mass Correct!
by LawrenceSnake
Summary: The last of the Time Lords discovers the Reaper threat, only for his luck to finally run out. Now his last hope is Commander Johnathan 'Zap' Shepard: Hero, saviour, icon, he doesn't know the meaning of these words. WARNING! Complete crack-fic!
1. The Oncoming Fool

**A/N: Okay everyone, some of you may have read my more serious take on Mass Effect with **_**'Primed to Defend the Universe.' **_**This on the other hand is strictly comedic fare so don't flame me please when Thane, Garrus, Joker and many more of our favourite characters meet gruesome yet hilarious ends! Multiple franchises are involved, all of which are close to my heart and by the end you may agree that these guys can serve the Galaxy much better than the dirty dozen... **

_SYNOPSIS: The last of the Time Lords discovers the Reaper threat, only for his luck to finally run out. Now his last hope is Commander Johnathan 'Zap' Shepard: Hero, saviour, icon, he doesn't know the meaning of these words. It's time for the Commander and his ragtag crew to meet the true Messiah - and his apostles...__WARNING!__ Character deaths! Black humour! Complete crack-fic! Don't take too seriously!_

**Mass Correct!**

The Normandy was crippled, the surprise attack had bypassed her stealth systems and left her tumbling through space. Jeffrey 'Joker' Moreau had been wracking his brains trying to work out how the heat emissions sinks had failed to protect them from the alien cruiser's scanners.

Commander Johnathan 'Zap' Shepard, with his dashing, chiseled good looks and penchant for cowardice rushed to the refridgeration controls by the sleeper pods. He should have known that re-routing the IES's power to heat his cabin while he made hot and heavy love to Ashley Williams would not end well!

As his crew were fried by the particle beam attacks or torn to shreds by hull breaches, Zap tried to hide his gross negligence under the pretense of launching a distress beacon, sweat pouring off his buzz-cut head and drenching his face; it had been a damnably foolish thing to do sabotaging Pressly's console so that the faulty IES system wouldn't register. If someone even tapped the damage control terminal it would probably blow up in their face, but how often did Pressly leave the CIC?

"_Huh, he'll be fine,"_ though John dismissively as he deleted his login details and online history using all of the illicit hacking skills he had learned while running bank scams for the fourth street Reds back on Earth.

Even above all the noise of explosions and screaming crew members who had been added recently for publicity, Zap could hear Ashley race up behind him to make sure her fling hadn't hurt himself as he was wont to do.

"Shepard!" She called nasally, on the verge of reaching him; desperate for her not to see that he had tried on her foundation (and other make-up) that morning, John slammed his helmet on and sealed it.

"Distress beacon is ready for launch."

"Will the Alliance get here in time?" She asked childishly, Zap kicked himself inwardly for choosing this dumbass specimen of his own kind; Liara had been falling over him and he'd had her eating out of the palm of his hand...

"Shepard!" She yelled again, he jumped out of his fantasy, realizing that he had been standing there as if he was in some video game, or something. He took charge while Ashley was knocked back by turbulence, John did not move to help her as he pressed some buttons behind his back which turned off the screen he was shielding from her view, then he seized a fire extinguisher.

"I'm not doing this so they can find our frozen corpses!" Among other things, he gulped remembering his Fornax subscriptions that were still being wiped from the ship's server. "Get everyone to the escape pods!" He tossed the heavy bastard thing over his back but he was not strong enough. The metal cylinder fell short, striking Ashley in the shin and toppling her into the nearby blaze of an electrical fire.

She shrieked as the flame bloomed higher but Zap was too busy listening to the main theme of _Inception_ on his helmet's radio to hear: That music was sure giving this life or death situation an epic vibe! He twisted a release valve frantically to vent excess oxygen. _"screw those who haven't reached respitory gear! I want to live! No oxygen, means no bloody fire or explosions!" _

Garrus Vakarian, (who had reached his own helmet in time), reached the middle deck and bumped into Johnathan as he sprinted away from the scene of the crime. "Shepard, what the hell's going on, where's Ashley?"

"Ash is dead buddy, Ash is dead, shrapnel must have got her, now, its time for the Captain to go down with his ship." He replied morosely.

"That's very brave of you John but I thi –"

"Nooo...Its very brave of _you_ Garrus, from here on out _you're_ acting Captain, congratulations Captain!" Shepard wrung Garrus's hand in abject terror, hidden behind a shit-eating grin, hidden behind lipstick, hidden behind an N7 helmet. "I'll be in the escape pods!" He called mockingly, leaving Garrus to rescue Joker from the cock-pit.

Zap didn't even wait for anyone else before activating his escape pod and soaring away, sighing in relief that Wrex hadn't been onboard to take a whole pod for himself, he probably would have gotten stuck in the opening! He was still laughing as a Collector particle beam tore through his unshielded mini-shuttle and blew him up in Alchera's orbit.

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in time and space... <em>

"Doctor Who?" Quested Dorium Maldovar loudly from within the box that held his capitulated noggin. His shouts were directed towards the last Gallifreyan, who was striding arrogantly away, content to spend the rest of his days in obscurity and leave the Universe in peace...For about five seconds! There were places to go, people to see, more genocides to commit and of course, parallel Earths to save.

The Doctor leapt into his TARDIS, and continued to mistreat the living machine, having never learnt to pilot it properly even after six hundred years of hitting the controls with a wrench. He warped randomly to another time and place; overjoyed at cheating death, again, he ran away like a sissy girl.

And...Straight into the Reaper fleet, who were all quite surprised to see a blue 1950s police box materialize in space before them as they came out of hibernation. The Doctor swung the doors open, giddy as a school boy, his face fell somewhat as he beheld the armada of culling death squids.

"Oh, you guys are – beautiful!" He gasped in ecstasy at seeing undiscovered life.

"_You will die now, genetic accident, for daring to sully our presence,"_ crackled their leader, who had glowing yellow orbs in a smiley face arrangement on the outer hull, extremely at odds with his chilling synth voice. The Doctor leant out of the TARDIS, arms on the side of the doors with a lazy grin on his face.

"Come on! Don't be that way! This is the Delta-Gamma quadrant just a few million parsecs outside the Milky Way, what are you robo boys doing out here?"

"_Insignificant speck of bacterium, we are beyond your comprehension, we –" _

"Oooh! A challenge!" The Doctor rubbed his palms together gleefully, "I love a challenge, lets see, you're all AI's judging by your high and mighty attitudes, trust me I should know, then there's the unmitigated gall at refering to me as a – oh oh."

Harbinger was charging his golden plasma beams, while other red beams charged throughout the fleet as well. The TARDIS just managed to dematerialize from that spot as the laser fire cut through the space he had inhabited moments before.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was soon on the case once more, gathering allies in his battle against the newly discovered threat: the Reapers. As much as it galled the Time Lord, he knew that he would need a new assistant, someone with unrivalled combat skills and powerful alien technology to help him combat the mecha-organic menaces.<p>

Samus Aran was polishing her collection of Yautja skulls in her penthouse on Daiban when the TARDIS phased into existence gradually, the huntress sighed, that man was nothing but trouble.

He had regenerated once more since she had seen her old adversary, he came bearing news of a Galactic threat in a parallel Universe, one which he was assembling a team of unique individuals to fight against them.

After some coaxing, the Doctor convinced Aran to accompany him.

"Oho! This will be super! Just think! You, me, Danny Boy, Captain Avery, Commander Strax, Madame Vastra, Jenny. All of the old debtors, we'll give these _Reapers_ a thrashing they'll never forget."

Samus was looking through his dossiers with a mocking gleam in her eye, she had heard of the fiasco at Demon's Run, these morons were incompetant to an extreme.

"Lets not be so hasty Doctor, I have my own list of specialists here that could deal with the Reapers and their minions." She handed him the files she had compiled from multiple timelines.

"What's this?" Laughed the Doctor as he took the data pad from the armoured heroine and scanned it quickly. "Samus..." he broached eventually, "these people are monsterous! Murderers, cut-throats, the dregs of Human-kind!"

"No...They're people who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty, unlike someone I could mention..."

"Hey! Now wait one cotton-picking minute, this is _my_ TARDIS and I say we're picking up _my_ team. Unless you think you could fly her by yourself an -"

PAWNCH! Samus popped the Doctor's lights out with a quick tap to the jaw and began to reconfigure the central console, this eccentric idiot had the technical skill of a savant three year old! After some tinkering and careful scanning, Aran set the date and location ( which were newly installed features) for September 1974, Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, USA; to pick up the man known as the greatest living soldier of the twentieth century.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A legendary icon, a feared bounty hunter, an unstoppable assassin, a sly corporate spy, a brawny soldier, a sadistic triple agent, a mild-mannered gunslinger, a rebelious conduit, a tortured shadow operative, a psychopathic engineer, a wise mentor, a stylish secret service preventor, a conflicted cyborg, a cultured scientist, a sympathetic monster slayer, a moralising counter-terrorist and a culinary mercenary. Together they will drive the Reapers back into Dark Space! Recruitment shall begin...SPOILERS ABOUND FOR SEVERAL GAME SERIES' YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**


	2. Point Zero

**LOGBOOK ENTRY NO. 5867932, UPLOADED COURTESY OF THE DOCTOR'S EXTENSIVE DATA BANKS, (Duration of hacking run-time 0.032 seconds.)  
><strong>

**(Dossier: Subject Human, male, known as 'The Greatest Warrior of the Twentieth Century.' Only one failed assignment on track record, circa 1964, [see Operation Virtuous mission case file.]) **

**- long time affiliation with multiple black-ops groups and private armies. Survival skills honed over a very long career, brilliant military leader and unrivalled tactician, excellent organizational planner coupled with unrelenting charisma makes him a very dangerous individual, especially when gathering support and winning over enemy factions. **

**- Co-creator and only living master of the CQC system, nigh-superhuman levels of reflex and endurance, observant judge of character, known to automatically see through an agent's cover of any kind, ruptured corena has left him blind in his right eye, does not impair combat ability. **

* * *

><p><strong>Mass Correct! <strong>

Big Boss lightly treaded between the white marble gravestones of his fallen brothers and sisters, all had given their lives in the name of a higher purpose, and so had she. For his part, he was taking the one month he allowed himself off every year. Kazuhira could run Mother Base and Outer Heaven without him for a short while.

Ever since he had cast the Boss's bandana out into Lago Cocibolca, where Peace Walker had sunk into the waters of Nicuragua; he had found his calling, endless battle, in pursuit of that elusive dream called peace.

The man known to his close friends as 'Vic' reached the most important stone in Arlington, he wore jungle cameo military fatigue trousers, combat boots and a grey thinsulate cardigan, his hair was long and shaggy and his right eye, now an empty socket, was covered by a plain black eye patch. The grave in question bore an epitaph, it read:

_192X – 1964, Here Lies a Patriot, Who Saved the World._

Victor did not know how long he stood there, gazing down at her unmarked tomb, then he laid a bouquet of white flowers on the stone and saluted his mentor. It was then that he heard a bizarre whooshing sound that alternated on and off for about three times before halting.

He turned around to see that a new marble charnel house had simply appeared out of thin air! The heavy stone doors swung open as if they were new and out strode a huge armoured figure in an advanced exoskeleton, it looked like a seamless being of gold and crimson metal, not a rude , bulky suit. He, or she, was armed with a large, well, _arm_ cannon that looked like it could punch through a Hind-D's armour plating in one shot.

But the warrior was not attacking, on the contrary, it just walked over to look down at him, nearly seven foot tall, towering above him. However, Vic Boss refused to stand down, he had seen plenty of crazier foes in his time, an alien, robotic man was not high on the list compared to freaks like Volgin, Gene and Hot Coldman .

Samus scanned the humanoid, it was him, the profile matched facial ID recognition and if the stories about him were true, he would make the best leader, the _only_ leader, for what was to come.

Deliberately, she deactivated the Varia Suit, allowing the power armour to melt away and reveal her true form. John raised an eyebrow as the beautiful woman shed her protective shell, the tall blonde wore khaki cargo trousers, a brown military dress shirt and black fingerless gloves, her hair was worn loose and like Vic she wore combat boots, though her's were worn over her trousers to just below knee-height while his were covered full length.

Though she was not as well-endowed as EVA or as mannish as the Boss, Vic couldn't help but be reminded of his mentor, she had similar fire within her eyes, which burned brighter than a star and while he could see that she was not incredibly muscular, she had a taut, lean strength that seemed to hide much more than peak physical abilities.

"Who are you?" Vic eventually asked calmly, the woman took a step back, saluted him and said:

"Bounty hunter Samus Aran sir, reporting for duty." Big Boss was not quite sure what to say, he stood there while 'Samus' remained with her am perpendicular to her temple, impassive and waiting for a reply.

"At ease soldier," she did so, "why have you come here? What do you want?" He reiterated slowly, Samus gave him a piercing look then stated simply:

"We need you to stop the Reapers."

"The...Reapers?"

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in time and space...Okay the year 2185...<em>

"Who said anything about love?" Grinned Commander John Shepard lecherously, as his eyes roved over _the perfect woman's_ blissful body. "I'm just trying to get you into bed!" His face was a such a hideous mask of lust, that it would cause even the _greatest_ of womanizers to feel morally and spiritually repugnant.

Ever since Cerberus had recovered Shepard's callow, splattered remains and from them cloned an exact replica of the man, mainly for marketing and the whole 'symbolism' thing, they had tasked him with a pointlessly long and irrelevant side mission to keep him out of the way and to gain Collector, (and by extension,) Reaper tech for their own nefarious plans.

Miranda Lawson rolled her eyes, the Lazarus project's speedy maturation of it's only subject had ensured that Zap's mental functioning was half of what it used to be, though to be fair, there hadn't been much to go on in the first place.

"Grow up Commander, what do you think I am, some kind of bimbo who will give herself to you right here, right now?"

Ten minutes later, Zap had come early but that hadn't stopped Miri from riding him cowgirl style. Zap chuckled as she lay next to him, spent. Flipping open his notepad on his 'to-do-list' page, he crossed off: 'Bed Miranda' with a straight horizontal line, the bucket-list event was beneath the already crossed out 'Bed Yeoman Chambers', 'Bed Subject Zero' and 'Bed Ms. Vas' Normandy.'

It came as quite a surprise when all four women managed to corner him later in the day, all understandably furious at being used in such a way.

"Ladies, please! Let's not do something we're all going to regret!"

"What, like smearing you across the wall fucker!" Growled Jack animalistically, flaring up with a blue corona, Tali advanced on him with her knife held high, while Kelly was twisting her dancing outfit into a makeshift garotte, Miranda was pulling off one of her stiletto heeled thigh-long boots for obvious ball-busting purposes.

"Jack! I understand what you went through as a child! Tali, I don't want anyone else, I want you! Kelly I think my fish need feeding! Miri, you give your father too much credit, can't I admire your body and your mind?"

Unbelievably, his ploy actually worked, all of his bed-fellows began to calm down; though Miranda still biotically kneed him between the fork of his legs and sauntered off. Gasping for breath, Shepard was helped up by Garrus.

"You alright John?"

"Fine..." He said in a voice that was not his own, it was too high-pitched for one thing, then he sighed as he watched Miranda's ass from a distance, a faraway look plastered on his big, stupid, face.

"You know Garrus, when Miranda crawls back to me like a bird on its belly –"

"Birds don't crawl Commander..."

"They've been known too! But anyway, when my woman returns I won't be able to spend time with the boys anymore." He said apologetically as they sat down at the mess hall table, Garrus, Zaeed, Mordin and Thane could barely restrain themselves from killing the Commander then and there.

"That's...a _shame_, sir." Muttered Garrus mutinously, Zap nodded understandingly while placing a comforting hand on Garrus's forearm.

"I know, I know, you're crushed, I've always thought of myself as a father figure to some of my more pathetic men; that's why we should spend some quality time together." He gazed into Garrus's eyes for about three awkward seconds, then: "Nah! Just give me a back rub!" Garrus sighed in exasperation.

John stood in the running shower cubicle wearing his pink bath hat in spite of having a jar head hair-cut still, luxuriating in the scrubs Garrus was administering with a large two-handed brush to his shoulder blades coupled with the large amounts of bubble bath he always used in situations like this. Both men were naked but Garrus still wore his Kuwashi visor. "Lower Garrus," the Turian gritted his fangs and worked the Commander's lower back, "lower," Garrus tried not to throw up, steeling himself he rubbed his lumbar, "lower," he touched his but crack, "oh! I see we've got a closet homosexual here you old dog!" Garrus sighed once more, why did he put up with this just because Shepard had lured Sidonis to his death outside the orbital lounge. He could have sniped the bastard traitor where he sat!

After all, Tali had been exonerated with the help of Veetor and Kal'Reegar, Zaeed had single-handedly got revenge on Vido and reclaimed the Blue Suns, Jack had leveled the Teltin facility and butchered Aresh, Mordin had destroyed the Genophage cure, Grunt was part of Clan Urdnot, Miranda, Jacob, Thane and Samara had solved their familial issues, although Samara did seem quite different now that he considered it...Most of the time Zap was using Kasumi's grey box to relive every time he had got lucky, Garrus shuddered at the disgusting memory, he'd be glad when this suicide mission was over and done with, death was preferable after all to being with this slobbering oaf.

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," clarified Big Boss as they walked down one of the paths at Arlington cemetery, "there's a race of sentient machines, practically Cthulhu knock-offs, who have culled all organic life for billions of years and you want me to lead a team of soldiers, scientists and mercenaries, including yourself, to stop this threat against all creation?" He stopped and gave Samus an understandably skeptical look through his good eye.<p>

"Yep, that's pretty much it," she stated in a throw-away manner hands out to the sides.

"And how do you expect me to believe any of this?"

"Well I can either show you the time machine I hijacked from a nine hundred year old senile alien, or I can subject you to a slide presentation on Prothean paleotechnology and archaeological records dating back to -"

"I'll take the time machine, those slide shows bore the hell out of me." As they walked by a large tree, Vic yanked out a Mk.22 tranquilizer pistol from the waistband of his trousers and shot a grey squirrel as it leapt to another tree, Samus watched curiously as he bounded over, killed and skinned the animal with his survival knife, impaled it on a handy fork that he also kept on his person and proceeded to eat the thing,_ raw_. In answer to Samus's questioning stare, he shrugged his shoulders, beard matted with blood and said: "I missed breakfast, and this really saves on time and money, I haven't had to go shopping in three months."

"Most logical," agreed Samus, raising an eyebrow in some amusement as she showed him inside the mausoleum which the TARDIS was imitating, Vic took a moment to take in the steam punk architecture as Samus closed the heavy doors effortlessly.

"Reminds me of my cardboard boxes, it's bigger on the -"

"Inside I know!" Cackled the Doctor, who was tied to one of the command chairs, a real shiner on the right hand side of his face, "hello there El Che, old buddy! I'd shake your hand but Miss Aran here seems to have confined me, no matter, as soon as I retrieve my sonic screwdriver from my -"

"You mean _this_ sonic screwdriver?" Samus waved the indispensable device mockingly, before casting it into the furnace hatch and destroying it in the withering flames.

"Nice try Samus, but there's more where that came fr - om, oh hell no!" Samus hefted a large cardboard box stuffed with every make of sonic devices and tipped them into the blast furnace as well, the Doctor was weeping as his insurance policy went up in flames, Samus gifted the box to her leader, and Vic accepted it with a glint of a tear in his left eye.

"I managed to fix the chameleon chip so she'll disguise herself to match the surroundings of any time and place in the Universe Boss, but I think we'll need extensive repairs to breach the alternate reality, this moron burned out the systems, _again_." The Doctor leaned forward angrily, spitting like a petulant child.

"That would not have happened if you hadn't -"

"No-one said you could talk asshole!" Roared Vic, shutting the Doctor up as the six foot tall military leader loomed over him ominously: "It's my vacation, I might as well spend it saving the Universe. Samus! Chart our course!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that as they say, is that. Next time, more space-faring daring-do! More high-jinx aboard the Normandy! And more squad mates to recruit for Big Boss's killer team! **


	3. Hazardous Waste

**LOGBOOK ENTRY NO. 5867933, COMPILED BY SAMUS ARAN AFTER FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NECROMORPHS ON HYDROXAV-24, (Duration of upload run-time 0.003 seconds) **

**(Dossier: Subject Human, male, name, Isaac Clarke, inordinately resourceful gear-head. Former C.E.C. Engineer and psychiatric patient, committed for nine deca-cycles to the Titan Memorial Mental Institute on the 'Sprawl' space station orbiting Saturn. [Now defunct] currently on the run.) **

**- Severe space dementia results in hallucinogenic visions and accompanying psychopathic bursts of strength, no real military training (but has the luck of the devil when placed in extremely dire circumstances, [see Ishimura Incident in the Aegis VII Cluster.] Rare moments of lucidity reveal an extremely intelligent individual, who can turn a disaster into an opportunity with his mechanical prowess.) **

**- A 'makeshift wizard', able to mould technology to his will, mining expertise results in an unconventional, (but brutally effective) combat style focusing on amputation and blunt force trauma with a variety of cutting implements. Lack of reaction to extreme gore after so little time spent in hostile action suggests PTSD-induced mild amnesia and paranoid schizophrenia. **

**Mass Correct!**

"Huuarrghhhh!" Isaac screamed as his plasma cutter minced the advancing horde of Necromorphs, he couldn't sustain his attack now that he was so low on energy clips, but the writhing mass of un-dead monsters continued to pour out of vents and piping ducts, clambering along the ceiling or scuttling along the floor.

A slasher was intent on turning his legs into tub-toys as it slashed its bony scythe claws at the engineer's knees. Isaac hopped over the attack and kicked it squarely in the face, taking its head off in the process. He proceeded to tear off one of its shoulder spines with his kinesis module and send it flying through three more, squelching through blood and offal, he realised he had reached the end of the line.

The corridor was a dead end and he had no back-up weapons to fight off an army of those things. Spinning back around, one of the fell beasts dashed the plasma cutter he had fashioned from surgical equipment back on Titan Station – out of his hands.

He ducked it's pincering move and swept a one-two hook combo into its rotten stumps, pulping both sets of arms and leaving the creature a blubbering wreck as it's vital arteries were severed.

Isaac turned and ran towards the huge, wide, darkened wall, sure that this time his luck had finally run dry. His rusty voice burned through his helmet in ragged gasps of pure adrenaline-fueled will, the will to fight and the will to live.

It had been a trap; Unitologists had lured him and Ellie to this station and activated their marker based on the schematics Tideman had extracted from him three years ago. Once again, he was the sole survivor, cornered and with no way out.

Suddenly the wall just, _opened_, a double set of seamless doors swung inwards, revealing two Humans gesturing frantically for him to get inside. Isaac didn't need to be told twice, their fetid breath was on the back of his neck as he leapt through the entrance and fell on a thick glass ramp.

The man and woman slammed the doors shut just as the lead splicer barged inside, such was the force behind the hinges that the Necromorph was cut in half at the waist. Shrieking horribly, it crawled on its front towards a rapidly scrambling engineer, who was propelling himself away on his hands and buttocks, the creature reared up talons outstretched...

Only to be immolated in a flash of plasma flame jets – that soaked it in 900Cs of heat energy for two seconds until it stopped thrashing and lay in a blackened heap of ash that quickly crumbled away into nothing but atoms.

Isaac looked up at his saviours; one was a 6 foot man of impressive physique, a mullet hairstyle of thick brown hair and an eye patch. The woman who was deactivating a advanced arm cannon, which disappeared as fast as the Necromorph had, was even taller: With a gymnast's frame, golden ponytail and smoking hot looks.

"Holy...Shit...Thanks for...Saving me. They can't get through?" He quested dis-jointly; before they could reply a laughing, jovial voice broke the calm atmosphere like a spastic child soiling himself at a nursery reading time.

"Don't worry your tin head Mr. Clarke! Those doors have kept out the armies of Genghis Kh– "

"SHUT, THE FUCK, UUUUP!" Roared Big Boss, snapping at last, running up and punching the Doctor square in the face, he was the man who had planned Operation Snake Eater after all alongside Coldman. John knew now that Gene had probably been referring to the Time Lord when he'd mentioned a 'single, deviously cunning strategist.'

"Yes, we're completely safe," Samus assured the engineer as John worked over the morally backward blabber mouth alien with righteous fury.

"Good to know," Isaac brushed himself off as he stood and extended a hand which the huntress shook firmly, the two looked back to see Victor's blows finally cease, it was then that Isaac recognised the battered occupant tied to the chair. "You? You're the one who released the spores on Titan! I saw you!"

Samus had to restrain Isaac as he tried to fix his hands around the Doctor's throat.

"It was necessary tin-head! You didn't expect me to let those fanatics sacrifice me in a lab somewhere, I had to get out!"

"There were over a million innocent souls on that station!" Screamed Isaac as he squirmed rabidly to free himself from Aran's double arm / neck lock, his arms reaching out to claw at the villainous bastard tied to the armchair. Big Boss stepped forward, realising the slight hypocrisy he would be spouting but continuing regardless."

"Hey! Calm down! The three of us all have grievances with this_, man_. But if we rip him apart now he won't get what he really deserves, the lady holding you is Samus Aran, you can call me Boss, so sit comfortably son, we've got a story to tell you."

* * *

><p>Commander Shepard sat in his shag pad, I mean, <em>office<em>, remembering good times. At that moment Garrus entered the room, having been summoned by Zap for an afternoon chat.

"Salutations my oldest friend! I thought we could share a couple of brewskies," he announced inanely, brandishing two bottles of vodka.

"Shepard, those drinks are fifty percent proof and poisonous to my species."

"Fine, spoilsport," wined Shepard petulantly. "I'll drink for both of us while you listen to me read from my big book of war!" He chugged one down and smashed the other to pieces on the floor for no apparent reason whatsoever. Reaching his modest collection of books, all with titles like Sun Tzu's _Art of War,_ Niccolo Machiavelli's _The Prince _and Darius Rejali's _Torture and Democracy_. Shepard swept these volumes aside, (they were all covers for his Fornax and Playboy magazines anyway,) and lifted a huge leather bound tome. With almost Biblical reverence he placed it on an ornate stand that he had pilfered from Kasumi, while Garrus massaged his temples with his talons to impede the onset of the inevitable migraine to come - and moaned in despair.

Clearing his throat, Shepard began to dictate and I quote: "The first rule of engagement is to know your enemy, and on Akuze I was absolutely prepared for whatever foul alien menace came slavering our way to eat our eyes for jew jew beans!

_Eight years ago..._

_"Sir! We need to set up the sonar detectors, there might be new lifeforms uncatalogued that could do untold amounts of-"  
><em>

_"Out of my way jerk ass! I claim this land in the name of our mother planet!" Shepard bounded over to a brown, dusty mound and rammed a metal pole into the earth from where at the top fluttered the blue and white Alliance flag.  
><em>

"More importantly Garrus, you cannot let the slightest provocation distract you while in hostile territory!"

_"Come on guys! Let's take a group photo of this prestigious day!"_

_"Commander, what about our defensive perimeter? We could be attacked."_

_"Hogwash! Don't make me pull rank on you all, now gather round!"_

"Further more, one's sixth sense must be so finely attuned that he is constantly vigilant for any sign of impending attack!"

_"Shepard, I'm picking up unusual tremors from just putting an ear to the ground, anyone got a Richter Scale counter?" _

_"Paranoid much Jerry?" Zap was listening to 'Gonna Fly Now' on his helmet's radio as he poured celebratory spritzers. "You'll find that reckless confidence can get you out of any tight pinch, and if that doesn't work. Well there's always the option of flee - uh - flee**cing **your enemy of their - reputation!" Many a soldier in Shepard's fifty man unit rolled their eyes, pulled faces or made rude gestures behind his back. _

Despite all my precautions, the enemy fell upon us in droves, of course I fearlessly led the assault!_  
><em>

_"WE'VE GOT MEGA-FAUNA HERE! OH GOD! SOMEONE GET THOSE M29's OPERATIONAL!" Roared Corporal Toombs, taking charge as Shepard dived underneath a generator and cowered pathetically.  
><em>

"I sent wave after wave of my own men to meet the monstrous menacing Sand Worms! Some of them - did die, but it was a sacrifice...I was willing to make!" _  
><em>

_Everything was silent, the Maws had retreated under the earth, John carefully crawled along on all fours out of his hidey hole, before prising an unlit flare from the buried hand of a marine and running for the extraction point awkwardly, both legs bowed, having filled his space diapers to maximal faeces capacity. _

"So there you have it, my daring and survival skills won the day! And I became known as the Sole Survivor of Akuze!_" _Shepard looked up from his equivalent of the Holy Qur'an to see that Garrus had already left during his sermon, the traitor! JZ contacted Kelly to bring him up his gourmet meal for the evening, one candlelit dinner was all it took to rebuild the Yeoman's confidence in him, he might even get another lap dance tonight!_  
><em>

As he scrumped down the succulent red meat in Bechamel sauce he reflected on a very similar meal he had had with a certain Spectre...

_Three years ago..._

_"Veal steak Commander? I've heard it's a Human delicacy," offered Saren Arterius cheerily as the two of them perused the menu in a high-class restaurant on Palaven.  
><em>

_"An excellent choice pal! And the Jazura faggots in Klixen marinade for you?"  
><em>

_"Mmmmm, looks delectable."  
><em>

_"It better be! I'm buying!" The two 'friends' laughed warmly, Saren inwardly checked himself from strangling the pathetic excuse for a soldier that sat opposite him, reminding himself how useful the fool could prove to him. After their food was brought to them, Saren asked him the important question he had wasted his precious time to hear.  
><em>

_"So, do we have a deal? Mr. Brannigan?" Aware that Zap had changed his atrocious birth name to Shepard upon leaving Earth. John speared a piece of dripping pink meat and held it up contemplatively._

_"You know, I know this steak exists on a different level from the material world, the animal that bore it as muscle in life, gave it up, so that I might take in it's very nature. And my brain tells me that it is...Juicy, and delicious." Shepard revolved the fork around greedily, starting to salivate, "not many humans want to acknowledge the truth of meat's origin, just like they don't want to know who really performed acts of heroism if they're ugly bastards."_

_Saren stared at the handsome idiot model as if he were an insect under a microscope, Zap continued his philosophical diatribe: "After nine years... You know what I realise?" He placed the meat in his mouth and chewed it slowly and deliberately, sighing almost as if he were experiencing an orgasm: "Ignorance is bliss."  
><em>

_"So we have a deal?" Clarified Arterius, with a hint of menace in his voice, his talons meshed together while his elbows rested on the linen table cloth.  
><em>

_Shepard now sipped a fine vintage red that a Turian waitress had brought him. "As long as no-one remembers any of my wrongdoings. Nothing! You understand?"  
><em>

_Arterius glared at him now, feeling that somehow this wouldn't be worth it in the long run. "And I want to be rich... You know, someone important," continued John, swirling the fine wine around both cheeks, sampling it, then smacking his chops. "Like a Spectre."  
><em>

_"Whatever you want, Mr. Brannigan." Saren announced simply, spreading his interlocked fingers in a gesture of indifference, Zap now started to light a fat Cuban Cigar that Big Boss would envy.  
><em>

_"So you'll get all my paperwork processed and the Council to accept my placement, in return for...?"  
><em>

_"Access codes to the Alliance mainframe."  
><em>

_"No - I told you, I don't know them." Zap said petulantly as he took a deep drag of his tobacco leaf, before hacking the grey smoke like the amateur he professed not to be, eyes watering, he grinned at Saren treacherously. "But I can get you the man who does."  
><em>

_Saren's face lit up in realisation: "Anderson."  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>Of course, Shepard's plan went to shit when it turned out that David was too much of a pussy to lead the ground team on Eden Prime himself. Saren hadn't been too happy about that, still, there hadn't been anything he could do about it save kill Nihlus and send assassins after Sheploo, thank God Garrus had been there to deter them! And thank the Maker that Garrus had managed to talk the Turian Spectre into suicide during the Battle of the Citadel! That man was just too bad ass for any of them to have taken on in a fair fight!<br>_

* * *

><p><strong><span>LOGBOOK<span> ENTRY NO. 5867934****, INTEL LIFTED AND RECONSTRUCTED FROM A COLLECTION OF DEFUNCT ABSTERGO ANIMUS SERVERS IN VENICE, ITALY, (Duration of upload run-time, 0.002 seconds)  
><strong>

****(Dossier: Subject Human, male, name Ezio Auditore da Firenze, the renowned 'Mentor' of the Italian off-shoot of the original Hashashin clan of the Middle-Eastern steppes. Perhaps the greatest fencer and free-runner of the prior millennium, consummate knife-thrower, urban explorer, horse-back rider and professional assassin. [At the age of 52, he has reached the equilibrium of youthful vitality and accumulated experience;] has single-handedly reformed the cities of Rome and Constantinople through sheer economical genius and less than legal methods planned across multiple districts.) **  
><strong>

****- Master of armed and unarmed combat, with a particular emphasis on hand-and-a-half swords, daggers, spears, clubs and the hidden blade. Estimates place his accumulated body count at 90,793 hits during his lifetime, has trained hundreds of men and women into deadly agents, notorious for his rakish attitudes, a lover as well as a fighter.****

****- A genetic abnormality passed down from the First Civilization's manipulations of the Human genome results in that descendant gaining 'Eagle Vision / Sense.' An extra-sensory perception that affords Ezio an instinctive knowing of a person's intentions or his surroundings in relation to himself. Manifests as an "aura in the mind's eye."****_****  
><strong>**_

* * *

><p>Ezio smiled peacefully as the sun rose over Constantinople, he stood on the peak of the Galata Tower, overlooking the Golden Horn bay. Yep, everything was looking up for him, he performed a leap of faith off the edge of the huge building, 'flying' down to another conveniently placed hay bale cart. What he didn't expect, in lieu of a fluffy, pillow softened landing. Was to plummet straight through the hay, through a trapdoor, to splash into a modern swimming pool and knocked the fuck out from the landing. The Eagle of Florence had been Shanghaied! <strong><strong><br>****

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><p><strong>AN: Recruiting will increase in tempo now, many thanks to anyone and everyone kind enough to read and review! **


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